


Gentle Heat

by alisonlynn



Category: The Tarot Sequence - K.D. Edwards
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Fluff, Hair Washing, Look it's just soft ok, M/M, Spoilers for The Hanged Man, Tender wound tending, You wouldn't have to squint hard to make it Rune/Addam/Brand but I left it ambiguous, rated for references to past sexual activity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:21:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26331835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alisonlynn/pseuds/alisonlynn
Summary: Brand and Addam take care of Rune after a rough mission.
Relationships: Rune Saint John & Addam Saint Nicholas & Brandon "Brand" Saint John, Rune Saint John/Addam Saint Nicholas
Comments: 10
Kudos: 39





	Gentle Heat

**Author's Note:**

> I've been calling this the ASMR fic, it's literally just soft
> 
> Mega thanks to egglorru for betaing this fic

The mission was a success, technically. Rune had retrieved the documents, threatened the blackmailer, saved the dignity of one of his lesser houses, and Brand had assured him he hadn’t made too much of a fool of himself in the process. So. A success, even if he hadn’t exactly stuck the landing. 

As he makes his way up the driveway of Sun Estate, he debates the merits of hiding his limp from Brand. On the one hand, Brand will be very annoying about it. On the other hand, trying to walk normally makes the gash on his thigh throb, and their Companion bond is particularly tuned in to pain. Once Brand had gotten a knife wound on his forearm and Rune had known it was infected before Brand did, just from the flavor of the pain trickling through the bond. Also, Brand is even more annoying when Rune hides things from him. 

Back on the first hand, maybe Brand will be too busy laughing at him to notice, and he can sneak off for a shower and a healing sigil in peace. 

Addam is lounging against a pillar on the front porch when he reaches the house. There is a moment before Addam looks up from his phone and sees him, and Rune uses it to admire the long line of him, framed in the last rays of the setting sun off the water. His legs seem to stretch for miles, and Rune still has the sense memory of them wrapped around his waist that morning, the sounds Addam had made ringing in his ears. Rune’s gaze drifts up and he smiles. Addam must have let Anna braid his hair, because instead of the casual ponytail it had been in when he’d kissed Addam goodbye before the mission, it’s falling out of some sort of updo that must have been elegant before the two loose braids hanging around his face had lost their grip. Addam looks soft and relaxed and Rune’s heart gives a throb at the thought that he’s allowed to kiss him. 

Then Addam sees him and Rune remembers that he needs a shower before any kissing might be on the table. 

“What happened?!” Addam asks, straightening so quickly that his phone falls from his grip, bouncing off the flagstones in the rubber case Brand had forced on it. Addam, despite the care and attention he gives the people in his life, is hard on electronics. 

“Uh. There was a fire,” Rune says. His voice rasps a bit, but he had practiced while he was walking and he thinks he sounds normal enough. 

“Fires are not uncommon where you are concerned, Hero,” Addam replies fondly. “That only explains the - is it soot?” 

“Smoke residue,” Rune says, resigned. He’d known there would be no getting out of explaining his appearance. 

Addam smiles, still fond, and reaches for Rune. “I suppose this is why Quinn bought the bubble bath.” 

“We have bubble bath?” Rune asks, brightening. Rivers, a bubble bath sounds amazing. He hadn’t known what to do with the enormous tub in the master bathroom when they were renovating the manor, as Half House hadn’t had a tub. He’d considered knocking it out to make room for a bigger shower, but Addam had argued for it to stay. Once, right after they’d moved in, Addam had called for him to join him in a hot bath, teasing and mock pouting until Rune was resting against his chest, back to front, skin sticking together in the steam, and he’d had to admit that he understood the appeal. 

“Mm,” Addam hums, pulling Rune into his side. “I believe the scent is ‘purple’.”

“I’ll get your clothes dirty,” Rune says, trying to wriggle away. Addam only holds on tighter, wrapping an arm around his ribs and taking some of his weight. It makes his leg hurt less, but he really ought to protest. He can walk on his own. 

“There is a wonderful invention, perhaps you have heard of it, called a ‘washing machine’,” Addam says. His tone is less playful than the words, so Rune glances at him in concern. Addam is already looking back, his face a study in patient affection. Rune stops trying to get away. 

Brand is already in the bathroom when they get there, unpacking the big first aid kit onto the counter. Rune sighs to himself. He should’ve known he couldn’t hide anything from his Companion. Brand catches sight of them in the mirror and snorts. 

“For fuck’s sake,” he says. “The hard part was over! I can’t leave you alone for two fucking minutes.” He’s doing that thing he does, where he floods the bond with annoyance and worry so Rune can’t tell he feels guilty. 

“I handled it,” Rune protests. Then he winces when Brand’s eyes narrow. 

“You inhaled smoke, didn’t you? I don’t care that you’re the fucking Sun, you have the same puny human lungs as the rest of us. Cough,” he orders. 

“My lungs are-” Rune starts. 

“Fucking _cough_.” 

Rune coughs. 

Brand appears satisfied with whatever he hears. Rune doesn’t know how Brand can tell anything from that, but he knows he coughed up all the disgusting black stuff on his way home. 

“See, I’m fine,” he says. 

“Your throat is raw, you’re covered in gunk, and if whatever’s wrong with your leg is an open wound it’s gonna get fucking infected from whatever is all over your legs. So no, I wouldn’t say you’re fucking fine.” 

Rune sighs. “It’s just mud.”

“Shut up and rest your throat. I will gag you, and not in a sexy way.” Brand turns to Addam. “Better hose him off first, you don’t want him sitting in that shit.” 

“As the hose is downstairs, perhaps a shower will suffice,” Addam says mildly. Rune tries not to be disappointed. The bubble bath had sounded nice, but he supposes what he really needs is to be clean enough for a nap. 

Brand grunts in agreement and reaches for Rune’s shirt. He’s gentle as he eases Rune’s bad shoulder out, though Rune is no help. 

“I can undress myself,” he says, trying to swat Brand away. 

Brand swats back. “What did I say about gagging you?” 

Addam must see Rune’s discomfort, because he turns his back to them and turns the shower on, fiddling with the antique fixtures and letting the spray mist the fine hairs falling out of his bun while he tests the water temperature with the inside of his forearm. Rune notices that he’s left off his sigil hand today, leaving bare the stump. For some reason, his consideration and the reminder that Addam is human, rather than a perfect person carved of marble, makes Rune relax enough to let Brand strip him down to his boxers. He doesn’t know why he’d needed the reminder. Addam has seen him naked so many times now, he must have touched every inch of Rune’s skin, stroked every dip and divot of his body, kissed every scar. Addam knows him more thoroughly than anyone other than Brand. His body has always been safe in Addam’s hands. 

Brand huffs at the sight of Rune’s cut, but he declares that it can wait and shoves Rune into the shower enclosure. When Rune, tired and off balance from his day, trips over the lip, Brand’s hands are already gripping his shoulders, supporting him until he gets his feet under him. 

The water is the perfect temperature, and Rune turns his face into the spray. He can hear Addam and Brand murmuring to each other over the white noise of the falling water, but he lets it wash over him, not trying to pay attention to the words. He lets himself drift, the water sluicing the grime off his skin, running gray as it swirls down the drain. The sensation of his boxers clinging to his thighs is unpleasant and dirt catches on the waistband, but he’s glad to have them. When he’s feeling vulnerable, he still likes the barrier of cloth between himself and the world, however ineffectual a barrier it may prove to be. 

The glass door slides open and Rune turns his head enough to see Brand step in behind him, stripped to his own boxers and undershirt. Brand shakes his head, one side of his mouth twisted to the side. “You didn’t even touch the soap, did you? Lazy, waiting for one of us to do it for you.” 

Rune opens his mouth to protest, but Brand says warningly, “Zip it,” and pulls a bottle of shampoo off the ledge. It’s Addam’s, so it’s the fancy kind, and it smells like sandalwood and affection. His hands are gentle as they push Rune’s head under the spray, getting his hair wet and filling the room with the acrid scent of smoke and the tang of melting metal. Rune tries not to gag. 

“Addam will do this properly later,” Brand says, sinking soap slick fingers into Rune’s hair, “but just looking at you is making my scalp fucking itchy.” Rune doesn’t process the words, just hums. He loves when Brand and Addam run their fingers through his hair. The stirring of hair follicles from their long set positions is like an off switch for all the worst parts of his brain. Brand had figured that out when they were twelve, and Rune had several very enjoyable weeks of Brand abusing the information before he realized Rune was annoying him on purpose. 

Slowly, the smell of the shampoo overtakes the smoke. Rune feels like the breath he takes is the first full one he’s managed in hours. It knocks loose something deep in his lungs and he loses control of his diaphragm, coughing and coughing until he spits another glob of gunk onto the floor. When he catches his breath, he finds Brand’s arms around him, holding him upright and out of the water. The familiar warmth of him makes Rune want to cry, and he silently admits to himself, _It was a fucking awful day._

Once he can stand again, Brand washes the rest of the soap out of his hair, then makes sure the mud is off his skin. It isn’t as clean as Rune would like, but he thinks he can get in bed without sullying their sheets and he isn’t sure he can stand much longer. Brand doesn’t let go of him as he steers him out of the shower stall. Instead of handing him a towel, Brand guides one hand to the wall so he can support himself while Brand strips off the dirty boxers. Rune is too tired to care, and grateful for it. He doesn’t even realize Addam is still in the room until Brand gives him a little shove towards the bathtub. 

The sun had finished setting while Rune was in the shower, and the tall windows framing the bathtub are dark. There’s a light over it, but Addam hasn’t turned it on, letting some candles he must have brought from his condo lend a softer glow to the harsh lights over the sinks and in the shower. He’s just turning off the tap, twisting to smile at Rune from the footstool he’s placed at the head of the tub. There aren’t as many bubbles as Rune might have added, but there are enough to cloud the water and hide the bather from view. The smell of lavender and something woodsy mixes nicely with the last dregs of the shampoo still clinging to his neck. 

Before Rune even realizes what’s happening, Brand has picked up one of his feet and then the other, helping him step over the high side of the tub and sink into the warm water. It’s glorious, nearly hot enough to burn, and Addam has added something to the water, making it feel soft and slightly tingly against his skin. He can’t stop the long sigh that escapes from between his lips. 

When he opens his eyes again, Brand isn’t visible but Rune can hear the plop of his wet clothes on the tile floor as he gets back in the shower. Addam is rummaging in the linen cupboard behind him. He makes a satisfied noise and turns back around, a pile of towels in his arms. 

Addam sees him looking and breaks into a grin. “The spells on the cupboard were completed today. I know you said they’re a waste, but wait until I wrap you in a warm towel once you’re clean. It will feel wonderful and you will see that I was right.” 

Rune would be willing to concede a lot of arguments if he never has to get out of this tub again. Anna can take over the Sun Throne, Max and Quinn can run missions for her, and Brand and Addam can bring him his meals. It could work. 

As if in agreement, Addam hands him a bottle of Gatorade, cap already off. “Drink, it will soothe your throat,” he says. A frown appears, just a wrinkle between his eyes, and he adds, “If I had known about the smoke I would have prepared tea. Perhaps with honey.” 

That does sound nice, but the Gatorade feels plenty good when he takes a big sip, the flavor washing away the gritty taste between his back molars. Once he’s had his fill, Addam takes the bottle back and sets it on the windowsill, just where Rune can easily reach it if he lifts his hand out of the water. Strong fingers wriggle under his neck and lift, and something soft and warm is settled behind his head. When Addam lays him back down, a towel cushions his neck from the hard edge of the tub. Water seeps into the bottom edge of the cloth, but it’s dry against his skin. 

“You’re too good to me,” Rune slurs, closing his eyes. 

“Hush,” Addam says gently. “Brand is not joking about the gag.” 

“Fucking right I’m not!” Rune hears, muffled by the shower walls. The sound of water against tile turns off, and Brand’s next words are clearer. “Tell him what you’re doing.” 

Addam makes a pleased hum. “Good idea. Keep your eyes closed, Hero. I am wetting a cloth to clean your face.” Rune hears a small splash close by and feels the ripples of displaced water as something is dipped near his collarbone. “I am going to start at your forehead and move downward.” This cloth is warm too, and a light sweat breaks out on Rune’s face as it gently sweeps across his cheeks, but it feels clean, like the sweat is washing grime from deep in his pores. Once his face is clean, Addam sets the cloth aside and Rune can hear the clink of bottles. Addam has more bath products than Rune had known existed, but usually they’re strewn over the bathroom counter or tucked in haphazard piles under the sink. He must have relocated some to within reach, unless he’s been hiding more under the bathtub. 

“Brandon, which face mask should I use on Rune?” he asks, and Brand must be as confused as to what a ‘face mask’ is in this context as Rune is. Rune can hear his light footsteps smacking on the floor, and knows that he must be making an effort to make noise so Rune knows where he is. He stops beside the tub. 

“Is that fucking guacamole?” he asks, and Rune smiles. 

Addam laughs, a low rumble that Rune can feel in his bones. “You two are so uncultured. Not to worry, I will make it my life’s mission to educate you. No, this is not guacamole. It’s a cucumber face mask. It’s cleansing, but not as harsh as the lemon mint. Perhaps this watermelon one? It’s hydrating, it will be very good for your skin.” Watermelon has held a special place in Rune’s heart ever since Brand decided to see if he could crush one between his thighs. He could, but Addam could do it faster. Rune had needed to dunk himself in the pool. 

There’s the click of a plastic lid being removed and Brand hums in approval. “Smells nice,” he says. 

“Here Hero, what do you think?” Addam says, and something cold and fruit smelling bumps against his lips as it’s thrust under his nose. Rune, conscious of his silence order, lifts a lazy hand in a thumbs up. “Good boy,” Addam says, dropping a kiss onto his still wet hair, and it’s playful and teasing except for how it’s not. 

Rune drifts for a moment as Brand takes a towel and Addam moves around some more bottles, then Addam makes a thoughtful sound. “Hold this for me?” he asks, and Rune isn’t sure he’s talking to him until a hand twines with his under the water and pulls it out, placing a plastic tub into the palm. He must have flinched at the surprise, because Addam murmurs an apology and kisses his hair again. There’s pressure against his palm as Addam scoops something out of the tub, then he says, “I’m going to put this on your face. It may be cold.” It is cold, but it feels good, refreshing after the heat of the bath. There’s a slight grittiness to it, and as Addam rubs slow circles on his skin it feels like it’s removing the dirt of a hundred missions, sunk into his body and left there until he’d forgotten what it was to be clean. 

“There, done. It will need to sit for several minutes, so your skin can absorb the nutrients,” Addam says, swirling his hand in the water by Rune’s side, presumably to clean off the mask. The water splashes softly against his neck. Rune hums to show he heard and lets himself lose track of his surroundings. It’s so nice, to be in a warm bath with nothing he should be doing, letting Addam and Brand make all the decisions, and not even be allowed to speak. He’s so tired, right down to his bones. He feels like his entire life has become making decisions, and all of them have such high stakes. Which of the requests for help should he accept? Who is in the right? Who needs protection and who needs to be smacked with the hilt of his saber? Whatever time is left after making decisions seems to be spent doing things that make him want to light the whole place on fire, like making small talk at Arcana events and drinking horrible tea in horrible sitting rooms so his lesser houses remember they owe him allegiance. 

Being a proper adult is the worst. 

“I’m going to give you a scalp massage while the mask dries,” Addam says, and suddenly the world seems a lot less grim. 

Addam’s fingers are elegant but strong, like a musician’s, and when they dig into Rune’s hair he makes a truly embarrassing sound. The fingers pause. “Oh,” Addam says, and it’s so delighted that Rune lifts a hand out of the water to raise his middle finger. Addam laughs, full and rich, and the sound makes the last of the tension in Rune’s shoulders melt away. 

Brand snorts. He’s not next to them anymore, Rune thinks he might be over by the counter. The sounds of his aggressive towelling off have stopped, replaced by the whoosh of loose fabric against skin. “You’ve discovered the trick to managing Rune. Don’t abuse it.” 

_Abuse it,_ Rune wants to beg, but while he knows Brand wouldn’t really gag him if he knew how itchy the thought makes him, it’s better not to risk it. He dips his fingers back in the water and then flicks them in Brand’s direction. “Ha! Missed me,” Brand says. There’s a noise Rune isn’t familiar with, so he opens his eyes to see Brand kicking his used towel over the water droplets on the tile. His eyes drift closed again with a smile. Brand is always like this, like a new mother trying to stay one step ahead of a toddler determined to crack its head open. Still, if Rune slips and dies in his own bathroom he’ll never live it down, so he decides to be grateful for Brand’s forethought. 

He loses track of time. Addam’s fingers feel amazing, and it’s even better once he starts to hum, low and soft like a lullaby. The sound rumbles through the water until he feels like he’s surrounded by Addam’s voice, like he could swim in it, drown in it and never resurface. The concept is appealing. 

When Addam’s hand stills he comes back to himself. 

“Sorry love,” Addam says, “but if that mask dries anymore it will start to hurt.” 

The gunk on his face is tight and a little itchy. He tries to move his face and it pulls at his skin unpleasantly. When Addam uses a wet cloth to wipe it off, the skin underneath feels fresh and new, reborn. Addam is gentle and thorough, going back again and again to get bits of the gunk tucked beneath his ears or in the creases around his nose. He’s so intent on his task that he leans close enough for Rune to feel his breath on the damp skin of his forehead. Addam drops an absent kiss there as he withdraws, satisfied. 

“I’d like to wash your hair,” he says. “Can you get it wet for me?” 

The towel behind his neck slips when he dunks his head under the water, but Addam catches it and drapes it over the edge of the bathtub. When he comes back up, dripping, Addam’s hand is there to maneuver him where he wants him. 

“Good,” he says, like putting his head under the water and coming back up are praiseworthy acts. Rune feels like maybe they are. He’s so tired and relaxed that any movement feels like almost more than he can manage. 

There’s the squish of the pump bottle Addam’s shampoo comes in. He’d had to change brands after losing his hand because he couldn’t pour it one handed, but Rune suspects he likes this brand better. It smells the same but it’s more expensive and has aloe or something mixed in. Rune doesn’t know what aloe even does for hair but he can’t deny that it feels good on his scalp when Addam massages it in. Addam probably works the shampoo longer than necessary but Rune isn’t going to complain. His fingers feel even better slick with soap than they had dry. 

He hears Brand come back, though he hadn’t heard him leave. He drops something lightweight into the water by Rune’s side. It makes a hollow sound but hardly any splash and he doesn’t feel it settle against his hip the way it would if it were heavy enough to sink. He wants to see what it is but he can feel the shampoo dripping down his face and doesn’t think aloe would feel good in his eyes. 

Addam makes a delighted sound and stops working on Rune’s hair to pick up whatever it is, and the next moment there’s water poured over Rune’s head. _Ah_ , he thinks, _the cup we use to wash Corbie’s hair_. He isn’t sure whether he should be offended, but it’s better than dunking his head again. 

Another hand, broad and strong and more familiar to Rune than his own, presses against his chest to brace him. Rune lets himself go limp while Addam washes the shampoo out. 

The water that trickles over his temples is still hot. Addam had paid for the spellwork on the tub himself. Rune has learned that his boyfriend has a great many opinions about bathrooms, all of them decadent and excessive. Still, the water feels nice. 

He doesn’t move when Addam and Brand switch places, Addam kneeling by the tub and keeping him from sinking below the water, and Brand taking the stool behind him. He expects to be lifted out, but Brand gently stretches Rune’s bad arm along the side of the tub and digs his fingers into the shoulder. 

“This is the ideal time to do this,” Brand says. “Your muscles are loose from the heat so I can get deeper.” 

Addam snorts but keeps the obvious innuendo to himself. He braces Rune with his stump and uses his hand to stroke water droplets away from Rune’s eyes. His fingers are warm from the heat of the water and as soft against his skin as any of the fancy soaps cluttering their counter. Rune lets himself meet Addam’s eyes and the smile that stretches his face might be the softest thing of all. The next water droplet, Addam removes with his lips. 

“There,” Brand says with a grunt, easing Rune’s arm back into the water. “Now there’s just your leg to deal with. Do you have any healing spells stored?” 

Oh right. Rune had forgotten about his leg. It had stung when he’d first gotten into the bath, but now it just throbs gently, in time with his heart. He shakes his head. Elena’s ring had contained a healing spell that morning, but it’s long gone now.

“I have one, but my healing spells are not as strong as yours,” Addam says with a frown. 

“It’ll do for now,” Brand grumbles. “Maybe we can stretch it if we clean and disinfect the wound the old fashioned way first.” 

“Perhaps the bed would be better for that,” Addam says, swiping a chunk of hair out of Rune’s face. 

Brand grunts again, this time in agreement, and Rune can hear the legs of the stool creak when he gets to his feet. “I’ll get it ready, you dry him.” 

“Aye, aye, captain,” Addam says. Brand snorts, and there’s the wet smack of his hand against some part of Addam’s body. 

Rune is sad to get out, but he mentally revises everything he said about the linen closet. When Addam urges him to his feet and engulfs him in a warm towel, it’s like being enfolded in Addam’s arms at night. It’s like the lick of flames from a fire spell against his fingertips. It’s like Brand’s Apology Brownies fresh from the oven. It’s heaven, and he trusts Addam not to be too smug when he moans happily. 

Addam’s low laugh vibrates through his whole body. “Come on, love. Left foot. Right foot.” He pulls a clean pair of boxers up Rune’s legs, then leads him from the bathroom, stopping him when he would have run into the doorjamb, and steers him to the bed, where Brand has set out another towel and the smaller first aid kit. With a final kiss for Rune’s forehead Addam disappears, presumably to the bedroom he still uses despite being nearly moved into the master bedroom, and leaves Rune to Brand’s tender mercies. 

To Brand’s credit, he does try to be gentle. Nothing can be done about the sting of the disinfectant, but he’s quick about it, swiping carefully with a cotton ball, making sure to get all the leftover dirt out. “I should’ve done this before you got in the tub,” he muses. “Now whatever shit Mr. Lush put in there is in your bloodstream.” 

Rune is struggling to keep his eyes open, so he doesn’t try to reply. He knows Brand would have bitched about getting freshly healed skin wet if he’d done his doctoring before. 

He doesn’t hear Addam come back in. One moment Brand is kneeling beside him, the next Addam has pushed his legs apart to kneel between them. “That looks like it hurt,” he says softly. He trails a finger down the swollen edge of the cut, his touch an easing coolness that makes Rune realise how hot his skin feels. _That’s not good,_ he thinks. 

Rune doesn’t say that it didn’t hurt as much as losing a hand must have, because they’ve had this discussion before and Addam never likes it. 

The wash of Addam’s magic, when it comes, feels like the warmth of the muscle ointment he uses when Brand isn’t around to bully him into a massage. It soothes the ache and draws a sigh from Rune’s lips. He lets his head fall backwards in relief. 

Addam’s laughter is quiet, intimate in the darkened bedroom. “You make that exact face when I go down on you,” he says, another shared intimacy. 

Brand makes a strange noise deep in his throat and gets to his feet so quickly Rune feels a draft as air rushes to fill the space he’d been. Brand digs around in the drawers for a while until he surfaces, triumphant, with a pair of Addam’s pajama pants. It’s warm enough that Rune would have usually slept in just his boxers, but he concedes. The sensation of freshly healed skin against sheets is never pleasant. 

Addam is right, healing spells have never come easily to him. The one he keeps for emergencies is enough to close a wound like this, but not heal it completely. The skin will be tender until Rune can manage to fill a sigil himself. Still, it’s nice not to need a bulky bandage. It’s nice that Addam and Brand can take care of tonight and he doesn’t have to do anything until tomorrow.

Addam ducks back into the bathroom and emerges dressed in his own pair of pajamas in time to help Brand roll Rune into bed. They settle with Addam on his back and Rune curled into his side. Addam’s chest is gloriously strong and solid against his cheek. “Stay,” Addam suggests when Brand moves to stand. “He will sleep better with both of us here.” 

Brand doesn’t argue. He flips off the lights and crawls in behind Rune, spooning against his back, a warm, solid weight between himself and the rest of the world. The scent of him surrounds Rune, a cloud of contentment that invites him to lay down all his worries. He’s safe as long as he can smell Brand. 

“Now what did we learn from this experience,” Addam says into the darkness. Rune hums against his chest. “You may speak,” Addam says magnanimously. 

“Addam is always right about bathroom spellwork,” Rune says, surprised at the croak his voice has become in its disuse. 

Brand makes a sound like a buzzer against the back of his neck. “Nope. Wrong. Try again.” 

“Well, he is correct, that just isn’t the only lesson,” Addam says. 

Rune hums questioningly, hoping that they can get this over with so he can fall asleep. It’s a miracle he’s not asleep already. 

Addam takes pity on him. “The correct takeaway is that you can ask for help, and we will be here for you,” he says. The arm around Rune tightens comfortingly. 

“You could’ve fucking called us earlier, when the whole mess started,” Brand says. 

Rune thinks about it, and is surprised to realise that he could have. He’s used to depending on Brand, but his new life is so heavy that he’s loath to drop any more of it on his Companion’s shoulders. Still, between Addam and Brand, they have skills that could have averted the entire disaster, from the fire to the car exploding. Skills that he himself, for all his other talents, lacks. 

“Ok,” he sighs. “Next time I will.” 

Brand huffs. “I expected that to be harder.” 

“Hush,” Addam says, dropping a kiss onto Rune’s head. “He’s had a difficult day.” 


End file.
